Kidnapped 12 – The Belgian

The news that the Belgian was involved in this saga other than as just a hostage came as a shock. I was in a bit of tizz. On reflection I don’t know why, but for a moment I had this panic that he was in with the kidnappers and I don’t mean in any sort of Stockholm syndrome way and sitting in our hotel. You always have to be so bloody careful. You try to take things at face value but there is always this doubt.

I rang Cyclops as he was the communications hub so everything went through him. This may seem long winded, but it is as secure as it can be and you have one person with all the info and he is detached and objective. Sometimes it is hard to remain objective when you are trying to dig your way out of a pile of shit. Anyway, before I could say anything, he said that Boris had rung him and that the Belgian had something interesting to tell us. I told him to ring Boris and tell him I would be with him shortly. The good news from BF was that JR was in good spirits having been sprung, and was probably OK to be put on plane home. BF and Bob would sort all that out. They were on their way to JR’s accommodation to get his things and sort anything out there. The other bit of good news was that the money was in the account from the insurance company. Its always nice to get paid.

With some help from moi, my new room mate was able to get out of the bath and started to dry her self and seemed almost oblivious to me. I lent her a tee shirt and some boxers, which being cut for a chap with the fuller figure were a touch baggy on her. She was very stiff and sore and so her movements were quite limited. Her backside, thighs and genitals were blistered and red raw with nappy rash from sitting in her own urine and dirt. Fortunately for her, being a good boy scout (which I wasn’t) and ever since having the kids I always carry a small tub of Sudacreme in my first aid kit. You never know when it will come in handy, remember the chaffed nuts!

I did her bum and she was able to do the other bits. I made her eat some chocolate even though she said she wasn’t hungry and just wanted to go to sleep. I wanted to give some some painkillers and an anti-inflammatory and I didn’t want her taking them on an empty stomach. Once she started eating though, she decided that, maybe, she was a bit peckish. The chocolate went down along with the medication and a large glass of water and a double dose of Dioralite (re hydration salts). Ten minutes later she was fed and watered and ready to kip.

I told her I had to go out but would be back later to check on her. If she needed anything to eats she was to ring room service.

She got into bed and lay down and then all of a sudden said to me “Monsieur Norman, it is possible if ….you could put your arm around me please, I would like to be held, it has been so long since anyone held me or was nice.”

Its that getting your mum to give you the cuddle and make it better again syndrome. We all need it at some point.

I lay down next to her with her back to me and put my arm around her and held her close. It reminded me of holding the girls when they had been sick. You can feel that fragile, scared, vulnerable alone feeling.

“Thank you Monsieur Norman.”

I think because I had thought of the girls that I gave her a little kiss on the temple

“Sleep tight chicken”

She snuggled up to me under the sheet and slipped into a shallow fitful sleep to start with . I stayed with my arm around her for about 5 or 10 minutes by which time fatigue and the drugs had taken over and she was well and truly asleep. I suddenly had memories of bed time stories and kids shenanigans, looking for dolly and blankie. It all seemed so very far far away like a distant dream.

Talking of shenanigans, best I have a word with the Belgian. I headed to Boris’s room. The Belgian was not going to be allowed the privilege of sleep just yet. However he had showered and was in a hotel dressing gown. He was not pretty and there was not fucking way I was going to give him a cuddle. Sorry if that doesn’t sound very equal opportunities.

“He is being a cunt” said Boris in French. Ever the wordsmith.

“Listen to me Rogirst, I have no time to fuck about” I barked in French.

He grunted, surprised that we English had more than just enough frog to get a beer and sandwich. He was clearly unsettled by this.

” You either tell me what the fuck is going on, or I assume you are one of the bad guys and arrange for you to have an accident from which you will not recover do I make myself clear?” I continued

“Yes” He said sullenly in English with a thick Belgian accent

“Well” I said also in English “what the fuck is going on?”

He sighed ” look I was not involved. Well, no I was, … but not as it may seem. They shit on me.”

“Oh yeah convince me” I said

“I knew O’Hara in SL. He was shifted here suddenly and no one knew why. I thought he was CIA but he was different to the spooks I knew. I was then transferred and the word was that O’Hara was very good at getting hostages released, but I knew he never left the office. It cannot be done, you need to be a field man, so I start thinking how did he make the contacts when he did not speak to local people I ask myself. I then saw him at a one day with an Arab. I don’t like Arabs they cannot be trusted they are scum. That made me suspicious. He then asked me if I wanted to make some extra money. I said sure why not. He got me to take some messages to the Arab and to some blacks in the jungle. They are savages, huh if the Arabs is bad they is worse. Then this French woman reporter starts ringing up from France asking questions about how come so many company people from this company are taken but never Americans. I say we had two Americans taken she says yes but they were CIA. She says that everyone hates Americans yet they don’t get taken. I say what’s the fuss everyone get released ok no one has been hurt. If it was Americans they would get killed and the yanks would start getting heavy here like in Iraq and everywhere else, is that what you want?” He looked up at me hopefully.

“Its a story but you don’t convince me and I have to tell you the clocks ticking” I said.

“D’ acorrd d’acorrd well she kept ringing me up after and then I was away on leave. It was merde and came back two no three weeks early unexpected, because I split up from my wife and money was very tight. I had done a deal with my brother. Are you cops?”

“No we’re not cops” I reassured him.

“Alors, well he knew someone selling some drugs he could make a good profit. I had money from my father when he died so I lent him the money but he was double crossed. That bitch lost me everything I had.”

“Are you saying your wife grassed on you”

“PUTAIN …the salope….I lost a lot of money all my money that whore and I was fucking sick of everything. That whore was fucking…..”

“Look Rogirst I am not interested in your wife unless it has anything to do with what has gone on here” I interjected very bluntly. I was tired and I could feel I was getting pissed off with this bastard.

“Sorry. Ok so things were bad and I came back here very quickly after left. When I get back I go to my office I found messages on my answer phone and work portable from people and about things I did not understand or know. …Arabs and niggers leaving messages it all made no sense. Then the reporter ring up again and start asking me questions again. I am pissed with everyone, so I ask her why she ring me all the time. She says that I don’t know much for the man who is the Local Intelligence Officer for the company. I didn’t know anything about this, I was general security I was a paratrooper not in intelligence. She says meet me and talk for my article. She sounded hot and I thought fuck why not I might even get her to screw me if she thinks she will get a story”

As Morrissey would say “Most people keep their brains between their legs”

“Ok then Rogirst what happened then?

“Oui..yes, well, we meet she is hot and she know it. We had a nice time and got on well, she is good at her job, but What I did not know was that O’Hara and the Arab were following her and knew about our meeting. As the evening goes on She asks me all sorts of questions and something about diamonds. I think putain alors, what has this to do with me and then I remember O’Hara, Mister America in SL. Diamonds. His move, me being moved, she tells me I am intelligence officer for the company I must know what is going on. I don’t say “this is news to me and I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about”, I play along. Marianne asks me about a lot of stuff about insurance money and payoffs and I realise she thinks she has shit on me, but I know its O’Hara”

“Marianne, that’s the French Journalist?” I asked

He sighed heavily and nodded. He held his fat hands in front of him and looked at the floor. I have questions but he is flowing and this is no the time to ask. Patience. Slowly slowly catchy monkey.

“I went to O’Hara” He continued “I was going to let him know in a clever way that I knew what was going on. I said someone was asking questions and that I knew what he was doing. He says to me “What’s that Olivier, what am I doing” I say “you letting them kidnap anyone but Americans” He laughs and says “No you got it wrong Olivier, its an agreement between the company and the chiefs of the local jungle bunnies. Those were his words. He says they take a few people, we pay them so they get good money and we get our people back unharmed and we carry on production, its insurance money. Redistribution of wealth, putting money into local communities to help them develop. They get money for medicines and schools and things and we stay in business no one gets hurt. I say what about the negotiators fees and bits. He says that the company regards that as his on the ground bonus for keeping things sweet. That’s what he kept saying “keeping things sweet.” He then says, as I have done a great job keeping the nosey French bitch out of it, he will bring me into the operation officially and he can cut me in. He says “Look Olivier help me out a bit longer with the Marianne. Keep her cool, hey you get on well with her, you had good time the other night, take her to another nice restaurant, treat her well she is sexy she likes you, play your cards right and you could fuck this broad”. It was only when I was tied to the chair that I think how did he know her name and about the other night and how did he know she is sexy, how did he know about the meeting or the nice restaurant. later one of the niggers told me he had followed me. Big, fat, stupid Olivier.”

He was too fucked to cry actual tears but he was at the low point he was a broken man at that instant.

“He got you at a bad time and played you” I said in my most reassuring, new best mate way.

He looked me in the eyes “Like you are now?”

“Yes, but I am being dead straight with you. Tell me the truth and funnily enough I think all your problems will disappear, well maybe not all, but most………But…..fuck me about and they will all disappear because we will kill you before 9am”

He held eye contact “Now that I believe” and for the first time he smiled.

“So then Olivier what happened next?”

“Well O’Hara tells me to make another meet with the Marianne to give her a story that will lead her away from us and here. He told me to mention a couple of thing, drop in some names to get her interested. So I ring her to make a meet and mention the names of two Americans that had been taken in March. I thought she was fucking some bloke the way she got so excited and say when can we meet. I fix a time for that evening but she don’t show up. Next day someone says “Oh Olivier I didn’t see you but a woman rang saying she was supposed to meet you but she couldn’t make it.” I was surprised because of how excited she had been. After that I heard no more from her and over the next few weeks I do jobs with O’Hara. I go to meetings, he sorted me a new car then says hey there’s a house next to mine with a pool which is available why don you take it on, its not expensive, so I think why not. I meet a nice girl from Poland who starts working in the office. She likes me and we see a lot of each other. Nothing serious but I can tell she likes me and everything is going really well. If you know what I mean” and gave a grin.

We grinned back.

“What was a bit strange was I got the bonus money in dollars and I did not sign anything. But I just did not think maybe I did not want to think” He paused briefly “Then I hear O’Hara talking on the phone in his office saying that the internal investigators are looking into irregularities by certain members of staff. He was looking at all people who had recently changed their domestic & financial profiles.” He talks American business talk and I don’t know what he means and don’t think about it much at the start. Then I hear him saying something else to someone and then I start to think he couldn’t mean me could he? I say to O’Hara everything OK he says “sure Olivier everything’s just sweet.”

“Then he came in and said a job had come up urgently and he needed me to go down river to check something out. He needed someone he could really trust. There was a young Englishman from the army, very good, very tough, who would go with me who would protect me. I took my own gun from my drawer and put it in my pocket. That was the day it happened. We go and are down the river on the boat when we see these blacks attacking a white woman. I see her and know it is Marianne. I tell the man to take the boat in closer to help her. Then we are attacked by two other boats. We try to fight but cannot because our guns are fucked, although the Englishman tried his best and he took a few out unarmed, but they made him suffer. It was then I heard the fat boss say don’t kill him he must be alive the American says they must all be alive. Then I knew beyond all doubt”

“What happened after that?” I asked

He let out a long sigh “It was a nightmare. The first day a man, not black, came and did a video of the Englishman. He was Egyptian maybe. They were laughing because the English man was scared and twitched and could not keep his hands still. When they finished the guards beat him for fun but he says nothing. He gave them no satisfaction. I think he has only just left the army he is tough. Then they hit all of us and pissed on us. One guard was not so bad, he let us get up and walk round but the rest just left us there with hoods over our heads. After sometime and I don’t know how long one of the guards said to the Englishman your Uncle has got the money sorted so you will be going home maybe. I am sorry I have lost track of days and nights it was hot and we stink”

“Did he do a video of you and Marianne” I asked

“No he just do the English, I think later that they know I am going to die for sure”.

“The man in charge of the guards was a big fat man. He came in one day and was really cross. He hit us all and says someone has been spoiling things and that we will not be going home. He said I knew too much and that we all knew too much and that as soon as the money was in we would try to escape and not be found. Then one of the guards said he wanted to fuck Marianne and started playing with her nichons..her tits..and then tried putting his cock in her mouth but the boss shoots him and says anyone goes near her he will cut his manhood off and make him eat it. I think she was to be his and we were going to disappear.”

He hung his head, he was done in.

“What happened to the crew of your boat?” asked Boris

“They are not worth anything so they let them go”

He looked up at me with sad weary eyes

“So what happens now, do you believe me?” he asked looking very worried. I did believe him more or less. It all sort of made sense but I was tired and we all needed some kip

“I believe you enough to let you sleep and not to kill you, but you will be kept here and guarded until we can sort out a few things. OK?” I said

“OK” he nodded

“Than if it works out we will get you some clothes and see about getting you handed over to the appropriate people”

“Not O’Hara” he said with a start.

“No, maybe your embassy or consulate” I mused

“Is that really necessary, you see I don’t know how much of a problem there is after my brothers little business problem”

“I see your point” Not that I cared really, but to be honest I didn’t want any complications to come between us and the insurance payout.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 26th, 2007 at 07:14 am and is filed under Kidnapped. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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Hi Sally – I live an interesting life I will grant you. As for dangerous, well at one point I think I was in serious self destruct mode after the girls and Alison died. More recently however I have been taking major doses of being sensible. In any event danger is very subjective. If you can control the circumstances then the danger is reduced considerably. That is what we try to do. Sometimes it does not quite pan out as I had hoped but by in large it does. To be honest the professionals who are in the most danger in the UK are Fire-fighters, Police officers and of course soldiers in Iraq or Afghanistan. They are constantly in more danger because they are called upon to deal with the unknown all the time.

As for mentioning the girls, well its just how the memories comeback at certain times when I am dealing with things.

Last but not least how do I get time to write all this. Well, when I was on this job I really only had time to knock out the bare bones which I store on line. That way I can access it when I get home or when I have time when I am away. I was away on this jaunt for over two weeks and then had a very nice holiday.

I have to be honest though, I did not realise just how long it was going to take me to get it into shape and tell the whole tale.

You would require extensive breaks following trauma of this magnitude, Norman, after dealing with such a horrid parade of the most vile human scum.
I am totally absorbed and can’t wait to see the comeuppance!